evolutionis humanity destined to stay true to our mammalian roots,
in which all of our current grievances lie?
on a natural scale, they are mere
necessary parts of survival.
but, are those sorrows and fears and angers we carry
a transcending darkness in all living things;
are the animals we come from just as evil as we?
fables teach children morality through animals
that talk, and bite, and feel.
is it just that we have snapped ourselves
out of the confusion,
to come reeling into a reality
that we truly don't want to face?
one that declares
"you cannot change";
one that says we are exactly like our
animalistic counterparts, and
we will never better ourselves beyond that?
what if the only reason we, as a race,
became more 'self-aware'
was to simply realize
that we are no better than the dirt we stand on?
PerfectionThe multifaceted diamond ring was cradled into purple velvet, underneath delicate glass, and shining in the dim spotlight. It was made of pure, six carat gold, and the gem itself was at least fourteen carats. I'd done my research. Security guards paced around the dark room, the light gray of the walls simple and elegantbut as the lights flicked off for the night, the shadows extended, granting me camouflage. I shrunk into the darkness, closing my eyes to hide them. One flashlight passed over me, and I remained still as the warmth slowly licked over the tight fabric that covered my skin. As it left, I carefully stood, and crawled sinuously up to the ceiling to travel across it. The ring glittered at me, beckoning me, along with all the other jewelry. It was beautiful, gorgeous, and perfectone of the few things that still was.
I sucked in a deep breath, my nails digging into the plaster. I can't believe you're still stuck on this Acacia, I hissed at myself i
InheritanceI waited. Slowly, I breathed in each deep gulp of tainted air as I waited for him. He was late. He was always late. He tended to show up when I least expected him; but today, I would not let him take me by surprise. The village that had once been peacefully bliss before my arrival was now burned to the ground. Houses flamed and smoldered; I could smell the stench of bodies intermingling with the smoke. Sweat drenched my back and coated my forehead. It was evening; the sun had begun to set, and I knew he was to arrive soon. He was very theatrical; he could be in the sun, of course, it didn't bother him at allbut he likened to think himself a "creature of the night." Sin seemed to blaze out of me; one of the commandments had been disobeyed. "Thou shalt not kill." I had, though. With my own bare hands, I'd set fire to and decimated this place.
Clenching my fists, enraged, I closed my eyes tight. I knew they'd be diamond-pupiled and a dark, crimson red; a sign of having your temptati
TrappedRed digital numbers on my bedroom clock glared out an ominous 3:00am.
As I stumbled out, down the freezing, marble stairs, and into my frigid kitchen, I paused in the doorway and stared silently into the black, abysmal room. Gazing at my dim reflection in the window across my sink, I flipped on a small light and jumped at my suddenly highlighted face. Fear burned in my eyes, and then faded as I let out a short, harsh laugh at my fright, trying to brush it off. But, nonetheless, chills, like slithering snakes, gracefully danced down my back, leaving sweat behind, and I shuddered as the sensation of someone watching me intensified. I whipped my head around and met my gaze with black eye sockets, hanging in his skull like strange, dark curtains. A loose, unhinged grin was on his face, although it seemed like it had been painted on and vacant for centuries. His black hair was feathery and dry, his bones thin-lookinghis fingers curled. He was unarmed.
So was I.
Whether it Becomes BeautifulA moonlit lake with brilliant waterfalls,
Treading down to form ponds; bonds to the world:
Honesty is like this: pure and iridescent with truth, it spreads.
Trust is a tree: it stretches itself as far as it can go, and
Shivers in delight with the wind; as though breezes were whispering
"Thank you" in green chlorophyll ears.
And there is a thing:
It is not divinely gorgeous, no; it is rather small and afraid
At first. A seedling of a feeling, a tiny emotion,
But with strength like that of a dewy spider-web;
It becomes iron-steel cords once increased in size:
Let it grow and flourish and blossom.
This tiny one absorbs gentle warmth, births wings,
And flutters into your dreams.
The feathers flurry to a quick-beat,
Like a heart-flower, being murmured to by the wind.
Hope curls into the willowy silver of your soul;
An innocent, snowy dove, forming a nest just to be with you.
You are the mother of this hope, and it is your choice
On whether it becomes beautiful
To the Cities"an alley bitch," she spat.
"a street rat, that's me."
Manhattan chuckled at her,
and Brooklyn smiled,
elbowing Times Square.
the skyscrapers wolf whistled;
mucked and shoe scuffed streets
called out pet names and grinned.
Chicago howled with laughter
as Detroit offered a drink and a
"roaring good time".
Even Paris heard, and joined in the
conversation with a flair,
Venice wiped away a tear
as Madrid cooed and cat-called.
Beijing coughed politely,
pretending not to hear.
Cairo and Buenos Aires
gazed at the girl, bemused.
Moscow tipped a wink, and Mumbai
London snarled, offended,
as Los Angeles spat in return.
"Yah, to hell with yous," she sneered,
"I like the country better anyway."
embersi'm a rebel in reverse
instead of speaking up
i sew my lips shut.
afraid of violent slips--i
break them apart into versified pieces
of language, refute the emotion.
flip it, cook it, light it,
then spread the ashes on paper.
i survive on
struck with awkwardly
there's a fixed freezing point:
negative 273 degrees centigrade.
then, after, only hotter, only fire.
i'm afraid those socialite porcelain dolls will blaze up
in a blizzard of snow-white fury.
so, i let the embers and sparks shimmer;
a hypnotic cosmic network of heat,
through this i learn:
you can always have the fire
without the burn.
they fade so fast...margarita hips
and salsa eyes,
sweet and spicy
her mango curves
sizzled up to mine, and
i watched her with
eyelashes curled like
dark night skies, and
her eyes shone like stars.
however, with all that flavor,
i twitched up my nose. it'd get
so old...i need someone more
subtle, like a shimmering nebula,
instead of a starstruck supernova.
blackjacktonight my children
the demons dance apart,
of my struggles, around this fire
i will carefully impart:
she was a queen of spades
clothed in black and art,
his fingers were quick and rough;
he was king of hearts.
her eyes were dark enough,
makeup missing, lips downcast,
yet she watched him silently
as carefully as he passed.
subtle as a thief,
his attention she would take
little did she know,
he had eyes like a snake.
hope and fear,
captured in his fingers,
startled, she retreated,
her motives tossed astray,
he moved ever closer,
she smiled and ran away.
with her writing she stayed,
while he and his music killed time,
he focused on rhythm,
while she placed an ace on rhyme.
that summer was hazy,
his gaze was sultry,
she wondered, then;
can love drown poetry?
as shyly as they come,
she murmured about her past,
he grinned encouragement;
the cards played at last.
mist curls softly around quiet woods,
bitten lips begin false history,
warmth rolls closer li